I've Got a Wrench, and I'm not Afraid to Use It
by sugar and darkness
Summary: Mia got the surprise of her life when a life sized box was delievered to her door after accidentally clicking on a pop-up. Inspired by LolliDictator's User Manuals.
1. The Fateful Click

**Editor's Note:** This is just one part of a deranged fangirl's mind, and there will be some discrepencies. We apologize. ~Dark

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hetalia, or anything I quote here and after.

Chapter 1: The Fateful Click

* * *

I clambered through the door, yawning and tiredly yelling to my brother Mark that I was home from work. He yelled back, welcoming me home, asking me how work was, I just grunted in response. It was the usual routine that happened every day around this time.

Slowly relaxing in the nice, warm bath after the quick de-greasing shower, I felt like I was in heaven. Who knew long hours working in the garage could give someone such a crick in the back? I looked at my fingertips and realized that those remnants of grease and dirt will never leave my fingers.

Being led into the kitchen by the wonderful smell of dinner, I sat down at the table waiting for food. As I stared at the plate my brother put in front of me, I wished I could've gone to Culinary School like Mark did instead of my Mechanics major at the local university. "So, Mark," I asked between bites. "What show we watching tonight?"

He smiled. "A couple episodes of everyone's favorite alchemist." Even though he couldn't see me smile back, he knew I was excited. It's always hard to tell my expressions. I can't help it; I've got one of those faces.

We both sat down on the couch after dinner, and laughed for nearly an hour straight at the small blond alchemist trying to fight someone who could shoot flames from his fingers before my older brother dubbed himself too sleepy to watch more and said I should go to bed too. I agreed and walked to my bedroom to lie on the nice, warm, comfortable bed. I could fall right asleep on that bed.

...

Except I didn't. I kept tossing for at least 15 minutes until my mind decided it didn't want to go to sleep. Damn it. Why does this happen to the person in this house that works herself to the point were she might break and not to the one who lounges about and takes 2 mid-day naps on the couch? So I got up and walked over to my laptop to go and randomly browse the Internet until I felt the tug of sleep.

Unfortunately, I landed on one of those sites where you get plagued by 25 hundred pop-ups. Okay, I lied. There were only 15 pop-ups.

So I sat there, clicking away at the x's and clicking those stupid 'Are you sure you want to leave' questions. I just finished clicking the third to last close button and was starting to work on the second one when I heard a crash, a cat's mewl of terror, and a dog's growling. A thump on the door startled me into clicking on my mouse, and I did not know about the trouble that one click was going to cost me.

"Congratulations!" I swerved my head back to the screen and was almost blinded by the moving graphics of the congratz on the screen. "You have just successfully ordered the Hetalia Units! The first unit will be delivered to your home in one business week!"

Wait.

...

WHAT?

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry for not posting any of the RusPru fiction lately, and this is merely a side project to help inform me with what I have missed with the series and to help further the RusPru fiction. I hope you all enjoy this side project! 8D ~Dark


	2. The Minsk

**Editor's Note:** This is just one part of a deranged fangirl's mind, and there will be some discrepencies. We apologize. ~Dark

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hetalia, or anything I quote here and after.

Chapter 1: The Minsk

* * *

I stared at the screen in disbelief. What had just happened?

My mouth agape, I barely registered my poor, whimpering Doberman Dreizehn fake-limp into my room. Heck, I didn't notice anything other than my laptop until she placed her black-on-tan head on my lap and looked up at me with her sad and rare blue eyes.

"Oh, my poor baby. Did the mean kitty Chelsea scare you?" I tried to act strong in front of her, but my hand was still shaking from the slight shock of the event that had just happened. I turned of the laptop, walked to my bed with Dreizehn close on my heels, and collapsed onto my bed.

I fell into a deep sleep, hoping that this ordeal would pack its bags and get the hell outta my mind.

* * *

My brother and I were sitting in the family room watching Napoleon Dynamite when we heard someone drumming on the door. I whined at Mark, "Did you order something again?" Of course, he looked at me, without an answer to my question, him telling me to go get the door.

I got up slowly and shuffled my way to the door. The "musician" outside our door was still trying to make a masterpiece when I swung the door open and stated the routine sentence _'Let's get this done and over with'_ until I almost burst out laughing at his delivery service's name. The Flying Mint Bunny Express Shipping? Ha!

"Are you Mia Lynn Kay...Kai...k-ka-..."

"Karev, yes, I just happen to be her. And don't call me Mia. I'd rather to be called Lynn, thank you very much." The man before me, with his short black hair and amused emerald green eyes, just grinned. I blushed, "Now. What do you want?"

He grinned. "Sign here, and I'll roll in your package." He handed me his clip board and his pen and rolled the big, chained(?) box inside. I looked around the man to the living, seeing that Mark had escaped. Damn It. "Well," I started. "Thank you...-" I paused for a name.

"Allen."

"...Allen." He grinned again.

"You're next unit comes in about a week or so," Allen told me. "Until then, goodbye." And with that, he turned and walked back to his truck. And I almost laughed again on the truck's detail of the same mint creature on his shirt.

"Must suck to drive that around all day." I giggled to my self. The box that just happened to be chained was standing upright in the living room, blocking my movie. Shit. A smaller box with a manila envelope sat on the coffee table in front of me. I threw the envelope onto the couch and sat down to open the smaller box.

Inside were period clothing, a long scarf, and...

_'What is a water pipe faucet doing in a box of clothes?'_ I stared at the pipe, bewildered, before I put them all back into the box. Ripping open the envelope, I found a book inside titled 'The IVAN BRAGINSKI User Manual'.

As I read through, I was thinking _'What is this shit?'_ and decided to at least figure out what I had ordered, not believing what the manual was right in that it was an A.I.-like robot. Yes. I do like sci-fi films. Shut Up.

I walked to my special project garage and got the perfect tool to cut the chains on the box. On the way back, I felt just the littlest bit of mischievous behavior overcome my mind and decided to mix to of the methods given to me in the manual.

Back in the living room, I broke the chains to the box, and unafraid of what the manual was clearly afraid of, I opened the box to a sleeping(?) human. Hey, if all of these "units" just happen to be so handsome like this one, I think I might just be glad that I did click that button.

Thank you Papa for teaching me and Mark how to read Cyrillic. I leaned forward, lightly slapping the unit's face, ending with "Wake up, Брат."

I jumped slightly at the feel of someone's hand clapping mine to the man's face while he wailed "Go away, Natalia. I don't wanna marry you!" He sobbed lightly before opening his eyes. He let go of my hand, which I think might have just been in the crossfire of his mental breakdown. It hurt, though.

I stepped back to let him get out of his box, and he sighed, "Oh good. You're not Natalia, even though you kinda look like her." After a short pause of silence, the man stood there with a stare towards me. I think I might have been looking at him with a look that said 'Who is this crazy man standing in front of me?' before I realized that he didn't know my name.

"S-sorry for my rudeness, my name's Mia, but everyone other than my brother calls me Lynn. And you are?" I flustered a bit in my 'polite' introduction, holding out my hand in greeting. He took my hand in his, shaking it. "Ivan," he replied, giving me a creepy grin.

We stood there shaking hands awkwardly for a short while until I heard a growling from behind me. I turned around to see Dreizehn standing by the patio door growling in Ivan's direction. "Oh, Dreizehn, be nice." She looked at me, apparently forgetting the stranger standing in our living room, whimpering slightly and pawing at the door. "Oh, sorry." I gestured to the couch. "I've gotta to take her out for her walk. While I'm gone, you can flip the switch and find yourself something to watch. I won't be long." With that, I picked up Dreizehn's leash and the User Manual to reread while on the walk.

* * *

As soon as I got back, Ivan stared at me with a slightly creepy grin and lowly chanting "kolkolkol" non-stop. "What can I say? She's just a puppy." Both I and she were nearly covered in a mix of snow and mud. How did it happen? Well, there was a squirrel.

End of that story. I almost asked Ivan if he could help me wash her off, but I didn't want him to try what the manual had stated about cleaning on my baby girl. And then I remembered that we had some extra Smirnoff in the fridge. "Hey, Ivan. Go to the kitchen and help yourself to some Smirnoff in the fridge. But save some for me." I pointed to the kitchen and dragged the growling dog off to the bathroom.

After washing both Dreizehn and I clean of the muck, I let her run free and walked to the kitchen were a certain Russian would be. "So you found the shot glasses?" I asked when I walked in, seeing that there was already one empty bottle of vodka. Well, it was half-full before.

"Da."

Hmm. This is one tough nut to crack. I grabbed me a glass and poured me some as well. Down the hall, I heard a door shut and Mark lightly humming. Oh yeah. He has classes later today. "You hungry?" I asked Ivan, pouring some more vodka.

"Da."

I grinned. "Well, so am I." I stood back up from the lean I was in previously and took a deep breath..., "MARK! COME HERE, WE HAVE A GUEST THAT'S GOING TO BE STAYING FOR A WHILE, AND HE NEEDS FOOD!"

Mark walked into the kitchen, "Yeah, yeah, I hear ya, so shut u-" He stopped, staring at Ivan. "You look familiar...You Russian?"

"Da."

"Your name Ivan Braginski?"

"Da."

"Afraid of your younger sister?"

"Da."

"Like to drink vodka and love sunflowers?"

"Da."

Mark gasped, and then shouted, "OMG! You're from Hetalia!" And he squealed, before turning his gaze to me, a questioning look.

Now how am I to explain to him how this man got here?

* * *

**Author's Note:** Yes, poor Mia. She doesn't know about Hetalia.

Stay tuned for more, and a possible collab with EliteKessu in Chapter 3~!


	3. Lifeline

****

Editor's Note:

This is just one part of a deranged fangirl's mind, and there will be some discrepencies. We apologize. ~Dark

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hetalia, or anything I quote here and after.

Chapter 3: Lifeline

* * *

"So you mean to tell me that Hetalia is an anime-slash-manga series that teaches history through comedy and homosexuality?"

Mark sighed. "Yes, Mia, as I have told you for at least the fifth time today, that is what it is." He put his hands on his hips in that certain way that showed that certain gay quality. Mark stared at me with an impatient look on his face.

I paused for a bit, running it over again in my head before I teased, "Wha…?" He threw his arms up in frustration, and I broke into laughter and apologized.

"So, I just ordered one of the scariest members of Hetalia and he has to live with us because we can't kick him out into the snow?"

"Yes, because that'd be mean, Mia. Bad Mia." He joking scolded me, shaking his finger at me. We both giggled until we heard a light, low laugh coming from the doorway. I turned at jumped slightly at the look on the said Russians face.

Mark stuttered slightly, but he recovered. "Would you like to have something to eat, Ivan?" The Russian nodded his head. Mark lead him to kitchen and I followed them, Dreizehn at my heels.

* * *

I whined, "Jak, do I _really_ have to come in to work today, or is it that you want to _take _my _family alone time_ from _me_ to be with _your_ boyfriend?" I stood in the kitchen, a hand on my hip, the other holding the phone, and ignoring the feeling of someone staring at me.

"Do you have to play the guilt trip card, Lynn? You're one of the best mechanics we got, and the new intern likes to learn from you."

I glared at nothing. "You mean the gross, smells-like-your-gym-socks man who doesn't learn anything because he spends the entire time staring at my butt? No." Again a small trickle of sinister laughter echoed in the kitchen. "Besides, we have a new housemate to get to know. And I kinda want to have a day off, ya know?"

Pause. A sigh. "Alright, Lynn, if that's what you want. I'll just teach the intern today. But I swear 'ta God, if he looks at my butt, I'll give 'im somethin' to look at."

I giggled, and we bid our farewells, and I hung up. The sinister laughing had stopped, and the house was eerily quiet. I had a feeling that that Russian dude would just jump out at me and try to scare me. Ha. Let's see him try.

I grabbed the closest thing to me like a weapon, which just happened to be a plastic spork. _'What! Why do we have a spork?' _I looked around, and could not find anything better. So off I went to defend myself with my trusty spork.

Rounding around the corner, there was no foreigner in site. "What?" I whispered. Wasn't he just here, like, 5 seconds ago? I tiptoed into the living room to find the said object of interest sitting on the couch, watching American cartoon shows, above all else. Relaxing at his non-frightening position on the couch, I placed my useless spork onto the coffee table. "You sure you want to watch this stuff? We could go run some errands, and I could show you around Vancouver."

He looked at me, and nodded yes.

* * *

We could've taken bikes, but the only working bikes that were here were the Minsk and the Vespa. I mean, I don't think he has a driver's license anyways. And things would've looked funny with a small (Shut up. I have muscles) 5'3" girl driving a motorcycle with an easily 6 foot man hugging her waist as a passenger.

No. We took my Kia Forte, and we drove off the resort towards the city.

* * *

Mark had come back from his class early, but he just was ending his nap when we entered the front door to the private lodge.

"What do you guys want for dinner? Oh, and I've got a movie picked out for tonight. A classmate recommended it." He yawned, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

I smiled at him. "Maybe some poutine? Introduce Ivan to some good Canadian food."

He smiled back. "I'll whip something up."

* * *

"HELP!" I screeched into the receiver, cuddled into my small closet. I whispered into the phone after screeching, "Help me...please Kara..."

How did this happen? How did the tough one out the twins get reduced to curling up in her closet calling her best friend for help? It all started with the stupid movie Mark's friend lended to him. Hostel. Blegh.

Mark fainted halfway through the movie, and I was plagued to watch the rest of the movie sitting to what was a complete stranger who just happened to be a sadist. During one of the more graphic scenes, I turned my head over to look at Ivan. He sat there with the creepiest grin I had ever seen in my life, and I knew that I would have nightmares that night. Mark was smart to spend the rest of the movie after he recovered to go and fix dessert, but why did he leave his twin in there with the creepy guy?

Which is why I'm calling my good friend Kara to save me from that man while he's taking a bath.

"Did you really have to yell in my ear first? By the way, who is this? "

"Kara...it's Lynn...You don't remember me? " I whimpered.

"Oh. Hi Lynn. Wait, why are you whispering? "

I looked around in fear. "Cause I'm hiding from the creepy Russian houseguest and from Mark."

"Russian houseguest? " A pause. "What's his name? "

I paused. "Ivan Braginski... .."

"Oh no."

My whispering stopped, and I asked in a stern tone. "What."

"I didn't think that . . ." She groaned and started a thumping sound from across the line. "They are a virus."

"What...wait... ...you don't mean..." My spirits fell even lower.

"Yep, it's exactly what you think." She sighed.

I let out a low whine while I face palmed myself. "Damn it. There went my escape plan..."

"Escape . . ." She growled. I heard a crash from the other line. "What the hell did you do this time Gilbert?" A male voice. "I didn't do shit!" Another. "Sorry!"

"What broke? !" She turned her attention back to me, "Sorry."

"Shit." I cursed. "Is that what I'll get for accidentally clicking that stupid button? !"

"Do you still want to come over? I have plenty of room."

"So do I. But I think I can come over, see what I'll be getting into," I sighed. Then I added below my breath, "...and maybe get front row seats to some very bloody scenes from the mastermind of violence Kara..."

"Thanks Lynn." She grumbled. "Anyways, you will love the fact that basically everybody in my house wants to kill each other. Oh, you probably could have drinking buddies."

I perked up, only to have my head hit the ceiling of my closet. "Ouch...What was that about drinking buddies? " I smiled rubbing my head.

"Majority, if not all of my new house mates loves to drink." She sighed, possibly remembering something that had happened in the past. "Anyways, if you wanna come over then you can. Besides, it's been how long since we hanged out? "

I thought about it for a while. "I think it was 5 months ago,...on my birthday."

"5 months? " She gasped. I then heard a thwack, and the sound of running feet. "Oh MY GOD!"

"Oh god what just happened."

"That stupid Russian whacked me in the head with his facet pipe! If you come over then you will have the pleasure of me getting angry constantl . . . ah!"

I laughed. "Well, I better let the boys know that I'll be riding over to your place tomorrow, let them have a boys day on the slopes. Of course, I am better than both of them, I bet."

"Yong- Soo stop groping me!"

"Daze!"

"Oh wow...there are units like that? "

"Yes, well at least Yong- Soo is. I'm not so sure about Gilbert, he hasn't made a move yet . . ."

"Well, I better go before Mark goes on a nagging rampage about me not wanting to eat his hard work...See you tomorrow!"

"Bring some! I miss Maj's cooking! Only try to bring enough for at least 10 people!"

I laughed. "Okay, I'll tell him to fix his best meal for tomorrow to bring to you. Bye."

"Laters."

* * *

**Author's Note:** OH GOD I'M SO SORRY ITS LATE DDDDDD; Writer's Block standing on piles of late homework is hard on one person. But nonetheless, stay tuned for a collab with EliteKessu! Go read her story Why Me? for the other side of the story!

Go look up Hostel if you want to know.

**EDIT (FEB252011) : **Hey guys, I wanted to update a couple of things. I am working on chapter 4, and I am very sorry for the wait!


	4. Rest

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hetalia, or anything I quote here and after.

Chapter 4: Rest

* * *

After hanging up the phone, I walked out of my closet, stretched, and walked out towards the living room. Mark was sitting on the couch, eating some Shepard's Pie he just finished making, his cat Chelsea curled up in his lap, looking content with herself. I wondered why.

He handed me a plate, and we just sat there in silence, waiting for Ivan to get out of his bath to join us for dessert. "Uncle Ban called," Mark finally spoke, "wanted to tell us that business for the resort was going great even in the summertime, and that he wants to have Gram and Papi over soon for the anniversary, along with Mutti's family." I grunted in response, my mouth full of pie. I might've grimaced a little, because Mutti's family was pretty much like the rednecks of Canada. "Don't do that." He scolded me. "Mutti's family has every right to act the way they please."

"You mean you still don't remember the time Cousin Henry called you that sexist slur, and I broke his nose with my screwdriver?" I threw the look he gave me right back at him, and he laughed at the memory. "See what I mean?"

He stopped laughing quickly, and he became serious again. "And what about Gram and Papi? They are traveling all the way from Macedonia for the one year anniversary, and you know that they're getting too old for the trip nonetheless. Shouldn't they have the right to see their son?"

I hoped he didn't see that guilty tear fall from my eye. I muttered a yes, and he turned back to the T.V., watching an American drama show about crimes.

We ate in silence again, and I waited for him to say something more. Lo, and behold, Ivan walked into the room, his blonde hair wet from his cleaning, and he had small claw marks on his cheek. Mark looked at it, and I thought he was trying to get killed. "What, Ivan. Cat got your tongue?" Ivan turned to Mark, and he stared at him with a childishly sadistic glare.

"Da, but it doesn't matter now. I'll just have to wait to see the cat scream under my grip." He sighed, as if longing for something, and he started laughing really quietly. It started to get a bit unnerving, and I couldn't stand the atmosphere between the two. What had happened with them while I was talking to an old friend?

I couldn't ignore the hostess feelings I knew I had way down deep inside any longer, and I stood up, telling Ivan to follow me. He did, and I walked into my bathroom to get a first aid kit. As I was disinfecting the wound, and kudos to Ivan for not flinching at the touch of rubbing alcohol, I also couldn't ignore the question burning in the back of my throat. "What made Chelsea do this to you?"

He looked down at me, and replied, "I had sat on the cat's tail. She batted at me, so I picked her up by the scruff of the neck, da. I didn't expect her to still lash out at me, though."

I silently laughed, before I asked the next question. "What happened between you and Mark?"

Ivan smiled, and it was kinda creepy. I tried not to think about the fact that I was touching the face that was smiling creepily, either. "Your brother walked in on me trying to punish the little kitty."

About to scold him for doing such a bad thing to that cat, I looked sidelong, not entirely innocent of punishing Mark's Devil Cat myself. Throwing out that sentence, I started with a new one. "You shouldn't do things like that to anger Mark. He knows how to poison you food."

He spoke after I placed the bandage over the wound. "I'm sure I can live through it, da."

Sigh. "I wish you luck then." I ain't gettin' through to that thick-skinned idiot soon. "By the way, I have to leave over the weekend for some, uh, business in America." I think he grunted at me in response, but the look he gave me did creep me out a bit.

"What is it for?" He asked.

Lie, lie. Gotta think of one fast. "I'm going down to visit an old friend." Damn.

"Okay. Thanks, da." He smiled, and walked out of the bathroom.

* * *

Our kitchen is designed to be big, spacious, and designed for the glory of a gourmet chef-to-be like Mark. It has to be big because Mark and I live in a remote ski lodge on our parents ski resort, and our home is refugee for the poor, lost souls of the skiers who come here. Sometimes, it's so big that I can't even find anything relatively human-sized. Like my brother, for example. Now where did he go?

Walking into Giganta-kitchen, also known as Waldo's home, I was on a mission to find my brother. I needed to tell him he needed to make a big meal and a belated birthday cake. "Mark,...are you trying to find your missing left socks? Because we already know the trolls took them." I joked, watching him turn around the corner.

"What do you want, Mia?" He placed his hands on his hips again.

"Oh, just telling you that I'll be going down to America to see Kara for the weekend. And that she also accidentally clicked that link for the Hetalia units. Plus, she wants some of your cooking, and a lot of it. Make it a big meal." I leaned against the countertop, staring up at him.

"Oh, sure. It's, what, 10 at night, and you want me to make a huge meal, and why do you get to see Kara and I don't?"

I sighed. "No, my idiot brother. You can make it in the morning. I won't leave until tomorrow afternoon anyways. I wanted to go for a ride on the slopes with you all tomorrow." We both leaned against the table, trying to find a way to communicate through that weird twin connection. It's an old habit from childhood, and sometimes it works...

Except when a certain Russian man interrupts when he too places his damn good-looking face WAY too close to mine for my liking. Shut up. I'm not blushing.

Mark and I scooted away just a bit, but darn his 180 centimeters, he inched closer. I dared to ask him, "What do you want, Ivan?"

Pause.

"Become one with Mother Russia?"

* * *

"Seems like Mr. Russian there is pretty close to stealing your throne, Queen Lynn." Mercedes laughed at me, flipping her dark tresses out of her eyes.

"Oh, Hardy Har Har. He can't take my throne, he's not a woman." I grumbled. Sure, Ivan was pretty good at the slopes, but I was still better...right? I'm only a semi-pro, anyways. I'm still one of the top snowboarders in Canada's Women Winter Sports Association.

I felt sorry for the poor soul who had to sit with Ivan on the ski lift.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Finally, huh, guys? The next few chapters will come in soon! I promise~


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